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Doctor Who Forgotten Suns Chapter Twenty
The Doctor sat there speechless for a moment. If he had heard Revelar correctly - and he was pretty sure that he had - then the Oortelians had been able to postulate the existence of the Time Vortex, based on little more than a few fragments of… something. (He still wasn’t too clear on just what, exactly!) Oh, it was all very vague and unformed at the moment. Some of the conclusions were wildly inaccurate – probably - and they didn’t appear to seriously consider the ideas to be of any practical value - hopefully. But even so… Even if these were just thought-games to them at the moment: the fact that they were even willing to theorize along these lines - and do it so well - was rather alarming! (And Revelar believed that this could explain the presence of the Tardis inside the other ship? That did not bode well at all…) Realizing that everyone present was looking at him expectantly, the Doctor cleared his throat before speaking. “Excuse me, Revelar, that’s rather a lot to take in. Hmm… Hmm… Sorry, throat’s a little dry!’ He turned round on his chair to address the Oortelian with a peculiar device attached to the side of his head. ‘I say, old chap, er… Thracksul, was it? Yes, is there any chance of some water?” “Certainly, Thadokta,’ replied the communications specialist, ‘I shall fetch you some immediately.” He began walking briskly over towards the Oortelian seated by the large globe, who was already reaching underneath his desk. “Oh, that is splendid!’ The Doctor enthused, rapidly rising from his own chair, intending to rendezvous with both the Oortelians by the globe, ‘but no need to go to any trouble - I could do with stretching my legs a bit now, actually!’ At his approach, Thraxle handed the Doctor a small silver flask - about the size of a fizzy pop can. He thanked the Oortelian profusely, pretended to have some difficulty opening the flask; then murmured, as quietly as he could. ‘Please tell the Clade Commander that I would like to see him at his earliest convenience, if you would be so kind…” He then let out a cry of triumph as he unsealed the lid of the water-flask, and made a great show of exaggerated enjoyment as he drank. “Happy to help you, Thadokta.” Coms-Spec Thraxle said, as he escorted his small charge back to his chair. Before sitting down, the Doctor did a few energetic knee-bends, and then some brisk jogging on the spot: as if getting ready to run a marathon. Finally seating himself, he explained. “Sorry about the interruption everybody, I find myself stiffening up if I sit still for too long - got to keep the old circulation going, eh?’ He clapped his hands and leaned forward to indicate that his complete and total attention was once more available. “Now then, Revelar, old chap! Where were we again?” The young theorist, who had been exchanging mystified glances with others in the audience - also perplexed by the antics of their guest - looked a little pained at having to repeat himself, but gamely soldiered on. “I was asking what your thoughts might be regarding the possibility of travelling through time and space, by travelling outside of time and space, Thadokta. I am sure everyone present will be interested in the opinions of an, er… Forgive me - an outsider - on the matter.” “Ah yes! Of course!’ the Doctor beamed enthusiastically, then swiftly clapped a hand over his mouth as his eyes went impossibly wide. ‘I do beg your pardon,’ he mumbled as he slowly lowered his hand, wiping the grin from his face, ‘No offense intended, I assure you!’ Rubbing his chin thoughtfully, the Doctor pondered. ‘It’s certainly something to think about isn’t it? Although, to be honest, I still like your ‘magic button’ idea. I mean, when you consider it: any kind of magic - no matter how impossible it may sound - could be presented as advanced technology… If you give it a suitably scientific sounding name!” He looked around at the faces in the audience, hoping for some hint of agreement - not a sausage. Sighing discreetly, the Doctor admitted to himself that obfuscation was unlikely to work in present company, so he chose a different tack: playing for time. “To be honest, Revelar, as much as I find your ideas fascinating, I don’t really feel that I am qualified to comment. I believe that there are some details that need a little more clarification before I could possibly offer an opinion.” Revelar looked stricken. “Of course, Thadokta, I did state that I was rushing things a little! My apologies! Please ask any questions that you need to. If I am unable to provide a satisfactory answer myself, I am sure that one of my esteemed colleagues will be pleased to step in!” “That is most kind, Revelar, you have my thanks. Well… I am still not entirely sure just what the Oortelian people discovered on Indigo, and elsewhere; or how those discoveries led to the concepts that you have just presented.’ He held up his hand to politely request that he be allowed to continue, before anyone could actually begin to answer. ‘But what really concerns me most at the moment is that rather large vessel my friends and I found ourselves stranded on. You have stated that it appears to have some influence on, or interaction with, time. Now, as I am sure that everyone here will appreciate, my over-riding concern at the moment is to be re-united with my companions. It would also be quite nice if we were able to just get back into our ship and, well… be on our way… if at all possible. ‘It has been mentioned that you have some recordings to support this, er… temporal anomaly claim. Is there any chance that I could see them, while you explain to me exactly what you believe to be happening? I really would find it most helpful…” Although he found his attention constantly being drawn back to the sad group of silver parcels, each laid out with a neat military precision: Mech-Tec Enteberol had felt a little morsel of relief when the First had issued instructions to begin the evacuation back to Indigo Flame. He was nurturing that morsel determinedly, while observing the calm and quiet discipline displayed by the troopers, as they began to exit this accursed Ship of The Ancients by two’s and three’s. Nobody else seemed to be experiencing the gut-curdling terror that Enteberol had been struggling to contain ever since seeing the giant alien. He had noted the First departing but paid him no heed. Nobody had given Enteberol any specific instructions, and he certainly wasn’t about to volunteer for anything, particularly if it meant leaving the vicinity of the airlock! As he cast about for some busywork that might make him look suitably occupied, his gaze was inevitably drawn back to the bodies - then something else caught his eye. A visi-com equipped helmet abandoned near the other equipment. This reminded him of something else and, sure enough, when he checked, he found another helmet on top of the booster array. These were expensive bits of kit! Keeping out of the way of the busy troopers, Enteberol worked his way around to the equipment cache and retrieved that helmet, then returned to place it with the other. Checking them both over thoroughly, the Mech-Tec discovered that each was in perfect working order. There was no valid reason for them to have been discarded! At least, none that he could see. As he puzzled over this for a while, desperate to keep his mind occupied - to keep the shaking fear at bay - he heard a shout. “Q! Fancy meeting you here! Glad to see you looking so well!” This cry stood out starkly in the somber silence, and Enteberol swung around to see another Ghost First rapidly approaching his own. Enteberol noticed some of the troopers also swing round to look at the newcomer, then turn back to their own tasks somewhat dismissively. Glancing at the body-bags again before he could stop himself, Enteberol suspected that he might have some inkling of what they were thinking. When he turned his attention back to the group over by the far wall, he witnessed both First’s engaged in an apparently frosty conversation. A little distance from them he could see the other, more reasonably sized alien, and two females. He recognized Choltz and that Specialist, Palasar, immediately. Neither were wearing their helmets. One mystery solved, at least. For a moment Enteberol wondered if he should go closer to visi the discussion for the record, or maybe return the women’s helmets, but quickly decided that it was none of his business. What his business was… what his business was… of course! As senior Mech-Tec present, it was his business to double-check all the feeds and linkages, all the hardware and software, of the equipment that he and Choltz had so painstakingly installed! Feeling perfectly justified in his self-assigned task, Enteberol set about looking busy, only occasionally looking around to see what else was going on. A short time later he was startled to see that another group of troopers, the mysterious second patrol, had joined them. He hadn’t heard them arrive! His attention was drawn by a female Second - he recognized the rank, if not the woman herself - as she spoke to one of his team. “I thank your patrol for treating our dead with such respect, Trooper,’ she was saying, ‘but we will see to them now. You need not assign anyone to carry them back to our ship.” As the Second was talking, the trooper was accompanying her to stand by the four bodies, so her voice became difficult to hear. When the trooper began to explain something to her, indicating two particular body-bags, Enteberol was unable to make his words out at all. The newcomer looked a little taken aback at whatever the soldier had told her. She knelt down by nearest foil-wrapped corpse and seemed about to touch it, but then she withdrew her hand reluctantly and, giving the trooper a stiff nod, rose and strode off to speak to her own troops. Enteberol put the sad scene out of his thoughts, and began to remove the access panel to the booster array. It was comforting to work on something that he was so familiar with, and Enteberol soon managed to immerse himself in the complexities of his work. It was not really possible - or advisable, he thought - to completely dismiss the threat that he imagined he could feel drawing ever closer; but he did manage to relax a little. Concentrating on every minute detail of the arrays innards, Enteberol managed to control the tremors that had slowly been building up in his hands. Even so, every now and then he chanced a nervous glance towards the huge portal, looming at the end of the corridor. If it so much as gave a hint of opening again, he fully intended to be the next into the airlock - no matter who might be in his way! The new arrival had been introduced to them as Ghost First Faramandar, and apparently he was now in command of the mission. Specialist Third Palasar couldn’t know for sure, of course, but she imagined that both Choltz and Jay-Mee felt as uncomfortable about that as she did herself. It was a struggle to control her impatience as First - her own First - gave the stern looking man an overview of recent events. Although his presentation was clipped and concise, to Palasar it seemed to take forever, but this was probably due to her own urgent desire to find out how this ‘Faramandar’ would react to her plan. However, when the man eventually addressed her, she almost wished that First had taken longer. “Specialist Third Palasar, I am informed that you have a proposal to make,’ Faramandar said, briskly, ‘and that it may require the services of some of my troops.” “That is correct, Sir!’ Palasar replied firmly, projecting as much confidence as she could muster, ‘I would need three, maybe four soldiers with communications augments to stay on the ship with us to…” “Wait! Wait…’ the intimidating officer interrupted, holding up a hand for quiet. He switched his brooding gaze to Tec-Op Choltz for a moment, then returned to studying Palasar. ‘Neither of you are wearing visi-com devices. I was informed that your party would be so equipped.’ Palasar made to reply, but he made that slamming ‘halt’ gesture with his hand again, speaking over her. ‘I will hear your proposal in detail, Specialist, and as ranking officer I will make whatever decision I deem appropriate. However… I want the Clade Commander to hear it as well. I trust that this will not prove to be a problem?” Before Palasar could reply, Choltz - who had been looking back to where she had left her own helmet - volunteered: “Sir! Mech-Tec Enteberol has our helmets, I can go and fetch mine if you like.” Faramandar followed her pointing finger and saw a man, also wearing the required visi-com unit himself, so shook his head. “No need. Just call him over.” The Mech-Tec looked rather startled when he heard Choltz’ shout, “Enteberol! Come over here!” He glanced at the group with something approaching alarm, then reluctantly stood to approach them. Almost as an afterthought he scooped up two extra helmets and brought them along. Faramandar watched curiously as Enteberol arrived and handed the helmets to the two women, then turned about, as if to leave. The man hadn’t even acknowledged him! “Mech-Tec Enteberol,’ Faramandar intoned in a deceptively calm voice, laced with an icy chill of fury, ‘where exactly do you think you are going?” Even Jamie, who had been feeling pretty left out of things for a while, found himself unnerved by the silky smooth delivery of the question. The effect on the poor Enteberol chap was even more electric than the hairs standing up on the young Scotsman’s arms! Stiffening to attention, as if someone had just dropped snow down the back of his shirt, the man slowly pivoted round to face the officer. (Jamie could almost picture him standing on top of Polly’s ‘record player’ thingy!) When he was fully facing Faramandar, the Mech-Tec swallowed, and choked out, “My apologies, Sir! I was under the impression that my work-partner, Tec-Op Choltz, was requesting the return of her helmet. I also took the liberty of bringing along Specialist Third Palasar’s at the same time. I am sorry if that was presumptuous, Sir.” “What is presumptuous, you spineless worm, is turning your back on a superior officer without waiting to see if he has anything to say to you!’ Faramandar held the Mech-Tec’s gaze a moment longer, flicked a look of mock disbelief at Q, and then tilted his head to frown at the two females. Both stood clutching their helmets, unsure whether they were to resume wearing them or not. “Leaving aside the question of why these two took it upon themselves to cease recording their observations,’ Faramandar mused, as if to himself, before glaring once more at his victim of choice, ‘I only actually require one visi-com operator to make a record here.’ As the (really) scary lizard-man leant towards the clearly terrified Enteberol, Jamie was half convinced that it intended to bite the poor lad’s throat out. But, straining really, really hard, he just managed to make out Faramandar murmuring, ‘You just volunteered.” As Palasar began her presentation, Jamie (very carefully!) placed the helmets that she and Choltz had surreptitiously passed to him, mere moments ago, onto the deck. He was still listening to her intently, of course, and intended to make sure that a certain young Highlander was going to be included in whatever plan she had cooked up. “It is really a very simple suggestion, Sir,’ she was saying to the big bruiser that had taken command, ‘I think that it may be possible to establish a dialogue with the, ah… with the pilot of this vessel, if we adopt a more cautious approach. I am hoping that the loss of your troopers was just a tragic misunderstanding: it would be even more of a tragedy if we were to simply leave, without even attempting to make it right.” “Address the Clade Commander, Specialist.” The large man interrupted, indicating the hapless Enteberol standing a short distance away. Jamie realized that the ‘Mech-Tec’ had positioned himself so as to ‘visi’ the whole group. He didn’t look any too happy to Jamie, but apparently he had seriously annoyed this Faramandar person. Palasar smoothly complied with the instruction, somehow managing to snag a surprised Scotsman by the arm, bringing him alongside her. “My friend, Jay-Mee, can speak the language of the giant, Sir…” Apparently not having heard about this before, Faramandar butted in again, looming over Jamie. “Is this true?” He asked in an amazed breath. “Aye, it is!’ Jamie responded, finding himself annoyed even as he admitted to himself that it was a reasonable enough question, given the circumstances. ‘I mind well enough what that bawheid spaceman said!’ And that was true. Jamie had spent some time wracking his brain to remember what the giant had actually shouted at them and, although he still could not be sure he had the exact words straight, he felt confident enough to turn away from Faramandar, instead speaking towards Enteberol. “He wisnae too pleased to find you folks on his ship, or me for that matter. ‘But I think Palasar is right - he didnae really seem to want to hurt any more people - he gave us a warning that everyone should get off his ship. True enough, he did threaten to come back and destroy anyone that was still here when he returned, but…” Jamie trailed off uncertainly, suddenly aware that this was unlikely to advance his efforts to seek out Zoe. Coming to his rescue, Palasar continued swiftly, “But my point, Clade Commander, is that Jay-Mee did understand - and the pilot was reacting to what must have seemed to be an invasion, from his perspective. I do not believe that any of us would still be alive over here had he chosen to attack. Instead we were warned, and given time to leave. That seems… promising. If we evacuate the majority of our people back to the Flame, perhaps a much smaller party may succeed in making a more positive contact.” As she paused to collect her thoughts, Jamie tapped her on the arm and tilted his head enquiringly at Enteberol, clearly wishing to say something more. When Palasar nodded quickly in response, Jamie put himself forward again. “Doctor! If you are over there with this Clade Commander right now, convince him that we have to find Zoe! I’m not sure what Palasar’s thinking is just yet, but if yon Commander disnae wish to risk any of his own folk - I will go look for her alone. Explain that we can probably both speak to the big fella in his own language… and please get back over here if you can, Doctor.” “Thank you, Jay-Mee,’ Palasar said as she took over from a very determined looking young Highlander, ‘although I would prefer to present my own case before you go volunteering for any solo missions - if you don’t mind!’ Jamie stepped away looking slightly abashed. Up until now, Palasar had only had a vaguely formed desire to make contact with the anomalous ‘Ancient’, but a more coherent proposal had just seemed to fall into place as she had listened to Jay-Mee speaking. ‘Clade Commander Silandor, Ghost First Faramandar, Sirs… I would like to accompany Jay-Mee to find his friend, Zo-Eee. If, as we think, she is still with the pilot, then she has been in his company for some while… It does not seem unreasonable to imagine that they have learned a little, at least, about each other in that time. ‘We would be accompanied by one - unarmed - trooper with the ability to communicate back to this location.’ Palasar paused and turned to Faramandar for a moment. ‘I don’t know how well the implanted technology works on this ship, Sir. I am just going to outline the minimum number of troops that may be needed to do the job.’ At his nod of understanding, she continued. ‘I think we only actually need one other augmented trooper on the ship - to stay by the booster array with Tec-Op Choltz. It will be her job to find a way of relaying reports of our progress - maybe the trooper can simply repeat our messages to Choltz, who is visi-com equipped. ‘Somewhat more problematic, however, is our inability to receive orders from yourself, Commander. My solution may sound laughable in its crudity, but maybe the simplest approach will work best. We station another trooper inside the airlock. Then your orders can be conveyed from someone stationed inside the contact craft. Perhaps Mech-Tec Enteberol would prove useful there, as he is even more familiar with our equipment than Choltz, and could perhaps provide additional technical suggestions. So what do you think, Ghost First Faramandar?” She turned to see the man stroking unsheathed claws across his jaw, deep in thought. Abruptly he fixed her with an intense stare, replying, “I think you are onto something there, Specialist.’ He turned to speak towards Enteberol, who had only just managed to restrain himself from nodding enthusiastically at Palasar’s words; by rigidly standing at attention. “Clade Commander, I am taking it on my own authority to explore the viability of this option. The evacuation proceeds apace, yet our communications augments remain untested over any distance within this vessel at present. I shall implement said testing while the majority of our troops evacuate. That should give you plenty of time to countermand my orders, Sir, if that is your decision. Faramandar out. ‘…Specialist, do nothing without my direct say so. ‘Mech-Tec, you are with me.” Jamie exchanged a cautiously optimistic glance with Palasar, as Faramandar led the quaking Enteberol back towards the airlock. “That went better than I had anticipated.” Murmured First, as he left to check on his own troops. Choltz just found herself sitting on the deck, and she could not have explained why, even if anyone had asked her. Category:Forgotten Suns